Reflections of Rivals
by Divinely Ethereal
Summary: ...yeah, well, see you on the other side, Kazama. Don't keep me waiting.


**Reflections of Rivals**

_**A/N: Hiya everybody, sorry for the long term of absence. Umm, I have by no means played Tekken 6 yet, sadly, nor have i familiarized myself with the outcomes of the main storyline either. This piece concerns what i perceive to be Jin and Hwo's thoughts on one another during Tekken 6. Why didI get a sense of deja vu**__**while working on it? Has it been done before?**_

_Jin_

You may beg to differ with me on this, but you, my dear Korean friend, are an inherently simple being:

A hawk to be flown at your enemies, a weapon to be experimented with, a foe to be toyed with and then discarded.

But all with due care.

Because you are also a blaze to be contained, a flood to be restricted, a tornado to be barricaded against, a disaster to be averted.

Your soul is wild , indominatable and full of vehemence, a spiritual blender of so many unstable ingredients, ingredients that give rise to the whirlwind of passions and outpouring of emotions for which you are known and cherished. And sometimes, the fire in you is so intense, I cannot help but wonder why you do not immolate yourself.

(So much for being inherently simple, _neh_?)

The back alleys and city streets are your playground, the rules of combat your Holy Bible, victory your only aphrodisiac.

Defeat is your poison.

_Ah_a... a way to bottle you up at last, to eventually force you to strangle yourself.

You really should revisit and acknowledge the ''inherently simple'' part afterall.

But it's an irony of ironies that I should be the one to subdue your spirit: I , whose entire being seems to be encased in the hardest Damascus steel; I, whose soul seems to be slumbering deeply in an eternal spiritual Ice Age; I, who basks in the terror of the populace, the entire world my unwilling hostage.

_Hmph. _It seems that you have your _karma_ and I have mine.

But I would truly have it the other way around.

I would rather you were hurling abuse at me, sparring with Steve, pulling Xiao's pigtails, tuning your guitar, than grovelling at your master's feet, a broken spirit, begging him to subject you to the most arduous training so that you could prevail over my inner demon.

You seem confused. And rightly so. But let me confide my secret in you:

It is only your spirit, with all its accompanying glory, that has managed to strike a vital chord in my heart, the chord that had been invisible until _you_ had come for it, the chord that had served to make me feel alive, oh so many eons ago.

So there is the truth, laid bare before you:

**YOU MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE.**

Power and riches are a poor substitute, my friend.

You had better get into your fighting stance now.

XXXXXXX

_Hwoarang_

I'll spare you the fancy prose, Kazama. Hell, like _you _deserve it anyway. Look at you, strutting around, all powerful and important-like, playing with your toy soldiers ( yeah, that's all what your damn Tekken Force is to me, alright), or holed up in your audience room( I'd pay good money to see someone put bubble gum on your so-called throne. Hell, I'd do it myself if I could). Or looking at me like I'm a sample of dog crap on your shoes.

Look, I get how you've made your other enemies piss in their pants. How that weird chick from the desert called you a freak, and that old relic Wang( 'scuse me while I get over his lulz-inducing name) said you were evil beyond redemption, but... who the hell are those people again?

Not the Blood Talon, right?

Yeah, I thought so!

So what's my advantage over them, you ask? Well I'm glad you asked, Kazama. Does four years ago ring a bell to you?

Remember being a boy-scout before becoming a tyrant?

Remember being Anakin Skywalker before becoming Darth Vader? ( 'Scuse the crappy pop culture reference!)

Remember how when we tied in that first fight, I followed you all the way to Japan, demanding a rematch? Yeah, I couldn't wait for no damn Tournament. I was the only non-loser in the crowd of love-struck groupies that trailed you around Tokyo. You'd walk around the parks, pray at the local shrines or sit on the rooftop of your geezer grandpa's building to watch the sunsets. During holidays, you'd go out hiking in the mountains, sometimes with that annoying Ling brat, but mostly alone. You'd meditate there too, and you'd ask me to please stop pestering you because you were trying to listen to the rocks growing, or some other weird shit like that. Once, I got caught up in an avalanche. You came back for me, dug me out, popped my dislocated shoulder, and sent me back on my merry way. Damn, I owe you a life, Kazama!

Remember how you used to keep that picture on you all the time? Fold, unfold, carress, all with the best care. Hell, you used to talk to it like some damn lunatic! The Ling girl told me it was a picture of your mother.

Oh boy, your saintly mother! I remember how you used to skip school every Tuesday. I'd follow you to the bus stop, board a bus with you, sit two seats behind you to your left. Three goddamn hours long, each one-way trip. We'd be dropped off near a forest nestled in some mountains. I remember the first time I came with you, when I asked you what the hell we're doing in the middle of Buttfuck, Nowhere. You looked at me all weird-like, said this was where you'd once lived with your mama, before she was taken from you on a black Tuesday.

I remember how you used to stand outside in the pouring rain, your head tipped up, your mouth hanging open, looking like a complete idiot, drenched to your skin and smelling of mould later . And you'd just ignore my punches and simply walk away.

You were really good at walking away, weren't you?

In fact, I wish you'd walk away right now. And you know why?

Cuz that would remind me of the time when you actually had a lot of good in you.

Ha. Bet you didn't see that one coming. I'll let you in on MY secret:

I'm a street rat, born on the streets, born _to_ the streets. I've hustled a living all my life; never done one damn honest thing. Yeah, I'm pretty strong, and damn proud of it. But to be as strong as I was meant having to let go of my goodness, cuz in our cruel bitch of a world strength and goodness can't combine. That's what I believed. Then you came along and proved me wrong. I could be good too, if I wanted. That's why I followed you around. That's why I quit the gang and the street life and got myself drafted into the army. But by then you were already out of my life and I didn't realise how changed you were.

There's bound to be some good left in you, so get into your fighting stance so I can prove it to you.

XXXXXXX

_Jin_

You long for what you perceive as the remaining vestiges of my goodness, I long for that part of you which used to make me feel alive. And only one instrument could help us attain our longings: The sealing together of our souls into the eternally blissful void that is death.

And we fall together, still locked in mortal combat, embracing the same fate.

XXXXXXX

_Hwoarang_

Yeah, well, see you on the other side, Kazama. Don't keep me waiting.

XXXXXXX


End file.
